


Something New

by krysnel_nicavis



Series: Porn on the Cutting Room Floor (and other places) [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidental Pregnancy, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Demon Dean Winchester, Episode AU: s10e03 Soul Survivor, M/M, Mpreg, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Episode: s10e05 Fan Fiction, Rimming, Top!Dean Winchester, bottom!Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-01-29 14:48:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12633294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krysnel_nicavis/pseuds/krysnel_nicavis
Summary: [Episode AU: s10e03 “Soul Survivor”]When Castiel gets to the Bunker, Sam is on a supply run. Alone, he encounters a still demonic Dean, who’d just managed to escape the dungeon. One good thing about demons? They just don’t have the same hang ups as humans do.





	Something New

**Author's Note:**

> I was working on a Rosemary’s Baby AU when this popped into my head.

Castiel arrived at the Bunker. The halls were quiet and empty. Sam’s text had indicated that he’d gone on a supply run and to clear his head, but that Castiel was always welcome to make himself comfortable. Castiel wasn’t completely sure how one _made_ themselves comfortable, but shrugged internally. The finer points of humanity still baffled him. At this point, he was used to the sensation. Besides, he was only here to check on Sam’s progress with curing Dean of his demonic state and to see if he could help.

He rolled his shoulders, stretching the kinks out of his neck. The borrowed grace Crowley had given him itched under his skin. It didn’t burn as much as the first angel’s grace he’d taken, but it made him want to scratch... something. _Anything._ He sighed and wandered through the concrete halls.

“Well, lookie what we have here…”

The low rumbling voice was silky smooth. Warmth bloomed in Castiel’s being while a chill simultaneously vibrated up his spine. He swallowed nervously. A small part of him hoped that hearing _that_ voice _here_ meant that Sam had been successful. However, experience told him he was right to be nervous. He was confident in his ability to fend off a demon, even with his currently limited power level only recently having been replenished, but he had no wish to harm Dean if he could help it.

“Dean…” He turned to see the man… no… the _Knight of Hell_ … leaning against the wall, fiddling with a hammer. In his mind’s eye, he could still see the demonic visage that clung to the man’s soul.

“Y’know, I _was_ looking for Sammy. I wanted to thank him for all that purified blood he’s been pumping into me. Stings like a bitch. Thought I’d return the favour.” He lifted the hammer to accentuate his point.

“I don’t see how that’s a favour.”

Dean chuckled. His eyes briefly turned black as he gave Cas a once over, sucking his bottom lip into his teeth. “I gotta say Cas, that is one ugly ass get up. I always thought it would look better off. Preferably on my floor.”

Castiel tensed, hand reflexively twitching in anticipation of unsheathing his angel blade. However, Dean’s phrasing was disarming and he paused. Dean smirked. Cas’ reaction time was slower than normal as he cleared his warring thoughts. His back was suddenly pressed against the wall opposite from the one Dean had been leaning against, the hammer and his angel blade both clattering to the floor.

“Why don’t we see if I’m right.” Dean’s breath was unnaturally hot on his skin, smelling like the faint remains of a campfire. Nose trailing on his cheek. “How does that sound, Sweetheart?”

Castiel gulped, drawing in a shaky breath. His heart beat thumped against his rib cage. He flinched, unsure of himself when warm lips pressed to his neck, just behind his ear. The simple act made him tremble. Did he want this? Of course he did. But…

Dean huffed. “C’mon, Cas. You like this.” He pressed his body flush against the pinned angel. His half hard cock pressing against Cas’ groin. “We both know it.”

“Dean, I…” He was silenced by a rough kiss.

“C’mon Cas.” Dean rubbed their noses together, a rueful smile. “Let’s stop thinking for once. Just do what _feels_ right.”

Castiel wasn’t sure what was more disarming. Dean’s lustful tone, or the honest expression so clearly displayed in his green eyes. _This could be a ruse. He’s still a demon._

Dean backed away and pulled Cas a short way down the hall and into his bedroom. He gave Cas a shove when he let go, causing him to fall back against the memory foam mattress Dean had been so pleased with. “Baby, I’ve been _dreaming_ about this.” His eyes roved over Castiel’s body. “Pesky human hangups.” He leaned down, pressing Castiel firmly to the bed, arms boxing in his head. He gave the angel a much gentler, but still heated, kiss. “I _need_ you, Cas.”

Castiel searched Dean’s face once more. He hadn’t attempted to read Dean’s mind in years. Not since the man requested he stop. But the man also broadcasted his emotions, his _yearning_ , stronger than any other Castiel had ever encountered. If there was one thing Castiel was sure of, it was the constant strength of Dean’s yearning. A strength of feeling that, despite his soul warping the way it had thanks to the Mark of Cain, was still as constant as ever. Actually, it was currently stronger than it had ever been.

_“Cas.”_

Cas sighed, body relaxing. He brought up his arms to wrap around Dean’s torso. “Dean…”

Dean kissed him thoroughly, continuing in a trail down the angel’s jaw. Down his neck, and into that space of exposed skin that had once been buttoned up and secured tight with that damn tie. He ran his tongue along his clavicle, swirling it in his jugular notch. Castiel’s breath hitched. Dean grinned against the warm, tanned skin. Enjoying the way the angelic grace tingled against him everywhere their skin brushed. He slowly unbuttoned the white dress shirt, licking and nipping at the exposed skin.

Dean pulled Castiel’s long legs around his waist and leaned back onto his knees, pulling his angel up with him. He trailed his hands up and down the bared chest, dragging his nails into the flesh of his angel’s vessel. Castiel hissed and sighed in aroused contentment, head dropping back. Dean couldn’t pass up such an enticing invitation and latched onto the exposed neck, sucking on his pulse point. He slid his hands up under the shoulders of the angel’s shirt, pushing the shirt, suit jacket, and trench coat off well defined shoulders. Damn. Who knew that bulky getup was hiding _this_? He went to throw them all off the bed, only succeeding in pulling the shirt out of the jacket. “What the—?” The trench coat was stuck under his knees.

Castiel chuckled in his ear. “Smooth.”

Dean snorted, tossing the shirt in one direction, the jacket in the other, and tossing Cas back onto the bed. He smirked and stood, yanking the trench coat out from under the angel’s body, not caring what direction it ended up going. “You bet your ass I am.” He stripped out of both his shirts in one move and crawled up until he was covering Castiel’s body with his again.

Cas wrapped his arms around him, one hand sliding up and grasping onto his short hair and pulled Dean down for a kiss worthy of the pizza man. He groaned into the demon’s mouth, skin vibrating and warm as his borrowed grace reacted to the demonic soul in Dean’s body. He gasped when Dean ground down into him, pressing their hardening cocks together through two thick layers of cloth.

“Let’s get the remainder of this troublesome clothing outta the way, huh?”

Before Castiel could dignify him with a response, Dean had his belt unbuckled and was sliding his dress slacks and boxers down his thighs. “I-I think you’re going to get stuck agai—” Dean managed to hook both his socks and shoes without another snag.

Dean grinned salaciously, taking in the angel’s nude form laid out in front of him. “You were saying?”

Castiel gulped at the look he was receiving. “I-” He cleared his throat. “I was saying you’re overdressed for the occasion.” Dean licked his lips and shucked the remainder of his clothing.

His calloused hands slid reverently along Castiel’s skin, the flesh beneath his palms quivering in anticipation. Licking his lips, he drew up the angel’s knees. Castiel gasped as Dean’s tongue slipped into his tight entrance, hot and wet. His breath shuddered as he gyrated his hips, fucking himself onto Dean’s face.

“Dean, _please_.”

“Is my angel eager for my cock?” Dean’s whisky soaked voice teased. “Do you want me to fuck your tight little ass with my fat cock? Huh, Cas?”

“Y-yes, Dean.” Castiel’s stomach churned with nervous anticipation.

“Yes, _what_ , Angel?”

“Yes, I want you to fuck my tight little ass with your fat cock.” He could feel himself blush.

“Ask and you shall receive, Sweetheart.” Dean spit on his saliva slicked hole before taking his hard cock in hand, lining himself up. “Ready, Angel?”

Castiel took a breath and relaxed. “Yes. I’m ready.”

The initial resistance had Cas biting his lip, suddenly unsure. But he took another steadying breath and grasped onto his raised knees, pushing his ring against the blunt tip of Dean’s cock in an effort of open himself up.

“That’s it, Baby. Take me in, just like that.” For a moment, Cas wasn’t sure if this was going to work. Maybe he wasn’t stretched out enough to allow for entry. Maybe they— Oh. Dean pulled out a bit and Cas could feel the drag of the demon’s cock on his ring. “Fuck, Cas. You’re so fucking tight.” Dean pressed in slowly, pulling back every so often before gently thrusting back in to allow his body to accommodate the girth until he was fully sheathed inside Castiel’s heat.

Cas let go of his legs, one lowering to the side, the other wrapping around Dean’s waist. His hands slid up Dean’s chest, pausing to drag his nails along the demon’s nipples, making him hiss, before continuing up to his shoulders. He ran his thumbs along the base of Dean’s neck before sliding his hands behind his head and pulling him in for an all consuming kiss.

“Cas.” Dean spoke against his lips, hushed tone. Almost a sigh.

“Dean.”

Dean moved his hips in slow, gentle thrusts. Hard cock massaging Cas’ insides. “So good. Fuck. Wanted this for _so long_.” Dean ducked his head so he spoke into Cas’ ear, the angel holding onto his hair with one hand while the other arm grasped at his shoulders. “Dreamt about fucking you so good. Could barely wait to bury my cock in you. Knew you’d be nice and tight or me.”

Castiel sighed contently. Enjoying the drag of Dean’s cock. The heat. The closeness. “Dreamt about you too,” he admitted. “When I was human. Dreamt about you every night.” He didn’t admit that only a portion of those dreams were sexual. “Oh, _Dean/i >.” He nibbled on his earlobe. “Wanted you so fucking _bad_.”_

“Oh, fuck yeah.” He thrust harder as Cas’ gravelly voice, wrecked with lust, sent shockwaves down his spine. “You lay awake at night, just desperate for me? Huh, Cas? Did you touch yourself while thinking about me?”

“Yes. Ah.” Cas dropped his head to the mattress, angling his hips to thrust back against Dean. Enjoying the feel of the contours of Dean’s cock along the ring of his entrance. “Every time I got an erection, I pictured you. Your hands. Your mouth. Made me come so hard.” He tightened the leg around Dean’s waist and ground up. “Never came so good if I didn’t think about you.”

“I’m gonna make you come even better just fucking you on my cock. You like that?”

“Mmm, mm-hmm.” Dean snapped his hips as he thrust hard and fast. Cas could do nothing but hang on. He groaned loudly when Dean pushed himself up to a kneeling position, changing the angle of his hips and so his cock was massaging his prostate. “Y-yes, Dean! _O-oh! Fuck.”_ His hands fisted the sheets. The sounds of skin slapping on skin, and their grunts and moans, primal and animalistic, echoed through the room and down the empty halls of the Bunker.

“C’mon, Baby, I can tell you’re so close,” Dean panted. “Come for me. Come on my cock.”

_“Oh, Dean!”_

“That’s it, Angel. Let go for me. Show me how good you can come for me.”

 _“D-De-ean! Ha-aah, ah.”_ Castiel screwed his eyes shut as they flashed a brilliant blue when came so hard his semen splattered all the way up to the wall above the headboard.

“Holy _fuck_. A-ah.” Dean curled forward as he came as well. An inhuman roar tearing from his throat as he spilled deep inside the angel’s ass. Filling him with burning hot, milky seed.

Fuck, that was good.

… the borrowed grace had even stopped itching.

* * *

Dean had just finished straightening out his clothes when Sam’s voice echoed through the halls.

“Cas? Are you here?” Cas was pulling on his dress shirt, his suit jacket and trench coat still lying where Dean had thrown them.

“Hmph, time for a different kind of play,” Dean smirked. He gave Cas one last lingering kiss before striding out of the room.

“Dean. What are you doing?” He asked as he quickly buttoned his shirt, not caring that he’d mismatched some of the buttons and button holes, and grabbed the suit jacket and trench coat. “Dean!” He just caught sight of the demon rounding the corner at the end of the hall, the hammer back in his hand. “Dammit.” He jogged down the hall while clumsily shoving his arms into the jacket sleeves, not bothering to pick up his discarded angel blade. He followed the sounds of Sam’s shouts and the crashes of the hammer through a door, haphazardly pulling on the trench coat.

By the time he’d straightened his clothing enough that it didn’t impede his movements and caught up to Dean, the demon was very close to getting his hands on the still human Sam. A little _too_ close.

He grabbed onto Dean from behind. Holding him in a rather aggressive facsimile of a hug. The Knight of Hell resisted. Of course he did. But, thanks to Sam’s efforts, he was much more human that Castiel at this point and the angel was able to manhandle him back down to the dungeon. Sam continued the injections. He didn’t need many more before Dean’s demon-black eyes melted away, leaving his natural, and more importantly _human_ , jade green eyes. Castiel’s tight posture relaxed as he clearly saw the humanity seep back into the man he’d saved from hell all those years ago.

Dean screwed his eyes shut and lowered his head. After a few breaths he looked back up. “You look worried, fellas.”

Finally.

* * *

Sam and Dean were resting. They were taking a break from hunting. This was not the time to bother them.

It had been weeks since Castiel had seen them. Weeks since he’d engaged in sexual intercourse with the weakened Knight of Hell version of Dean Winchester. …and it had been days since he finally admitted to himself that more had transpired that day than the temporary resolution of their perpetual state of unresolved sexual tension.

He needed to speak to Dean. The man needed to know. But…

Now was not the time.

* * *

“Hey, Cas.” As usual, Dean’s voice sounded tinny over the phone. Even so, it didn’t stop the fluttering in his chest. The accompanying fluttering in his abdomen caused guilt to clench his sternum, chasing the fluttering under his ribcage away.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Where are you, man? It’s been a while since you came around.” That was an understatement. The last time they’d seen each other was the beginning of August and it was now nearing mid-October.

“Yes, it has.” Castiel looked through the window of the empty apartment he was holed up in for the moment. The occupants were away for a few weeks and Castiel didn’t feel like wandering around much these days. “I’m nowhere of consequence.”

Dean hummed but didn’t otherwise comment. They were silent for a time, each secretly enjoying the simple fact that the other was on the other end of the line. Dean cleared his throat. “Hey Cas, can I ask you something?”

Castiel hesitated, looking down. “Um, sure, Dean… Anything.”

“Back during the apocalypse, when Zachariah sent me to that… that fake future where everyone was infected by the Croatoan virus… Do you remember that day… or, night?”

That was unexpected. “Yes. I remember.”

“When I said I needed four hours to sleep and I hung up on you…”

“Yes?”

“Did you stay there, on the side of the road, the entire time?”

Castiel was surprised. How did he know that? “H-how did you—?”

Dean cleared his throat again. “Sam and I, well, the case we’re on…” Dean huffed then started speaking very fast. “Okay so, these crazy college kids were putting on a musical based on Chuck’s stupid Supernatural books, and one of the scenes was about you and how you waited there for the whole four hours.” He paused. “Actually they did an entire song about it.”

Castiel swallowed, overcome with emotion in a similar uncontrollable way to what he’d experienced back when he’d become human. His throat was tight.

“Cas? … You still there?”

He swallowed around the tightness. “Yes. I’m here.”

“… Why don’t you head to the Bunker. We’ll be there in a few days. I’d… It’d be good to see you again.”

“Yes. It would be good to see you again, too.”

“Great!” He cleared his throat once more. “Yeah. Yeah, great… So, uh, I guess we’ll see you in a few days, then.”

“In a few days.”

“… Bye, Cas.”

“Goodbye, Dean.”

Castiel lowered his phone and rubbed his rounded stomach with his free hand, sighing. The foetus growing within his body was kicked strongly. Painfully so at times. At two and a half months gestation, the hybrid was developing unnaturally fast. It made sense, considering it was such an unnatural pregnancy. To his knowledge, what was growing inside him — his child… _their_ child — was the first of it’s kind. Half Seraph… and half Knight of Hell. A detached part of him found it interesting that the hybrid’s parents were of equal rank in their respective factions – despite both being as de-powered as they had been at the time of it’s conception. The more invested part was fortunate that the conception hadn’t pinged either Heaven’s or Hell’s radar.

Castiel left his temporary refuge and got back into his stolen car. He had some distance to cover before he’d reach Lebanon. If the sharp movements were any indication, Dean’s child was just as impatient as he was. He took a deep breath, rubbing soothing circles on the mound of his stomach before starting the engine.

* * *

“Hello, Dean.” Castiel stood in the doorway to Dean’s room. His mind flashed back to the last time they were here together. Their child shifted as his pulse increased.

“Cas!” Dean stood from his reclined seat on the bed, placing his book on the side table. Castiel watched the emotions cycle in Dean’s eyes as the man looked him over. Surprise. Happiness. Doubt. He was unsure. They both were.

Castiel cleared his throat. “Dean, I…” Now that the time had come, he had no idea how to proceed. The way he covered himself with the trench coat prevented his condition from being immediately obvious. “We need to talk.”

“Oh… Right…” Dean’s expression turned to resignation. “Yeah. I get it.” He looked away, fists clenching.

“I sincerely doubt that,” Castiel sighed.

“Look, I…” He worked his jaw. “It was a mistake that I regret. Let’s just forget it ever happened and move on.”

A pang shot through him and he looked away. “I’m afraid it’s not that simple.” He tried not to flinch as the child gave a particularly sharp kick.

“No, it is.” Dean’s voice was hushed. “It _is_ that simple.” When Cas looked back at him, the man’s expression was resolved.

Castiel’s eyes burned. “Dean, I- _a-ah_.” He doubled over in pain.

 _“Cas!”_ Dean rushed to his side. “What’s wrong? Is it your grace?” He helped Cas sit on the bed. Tears slipped down the angel’s face and he was no longer sure he wanted to stop them. “Cas?” Dean crouched down in front of him, a hand on his knee.

“No,” he breathed. “It’s…” He took a deliberate breath and swallowed. “It’s not my grace…” He looked into Dean’s eyes. “Dean…” He sucked in a breath and clutched his stomach, his coat and jacket finally falling open.

Dean’s eyes widened, gaze locked onto his abdomen. “C-Cas?”

“I’m sorry, Dean.” He took a calming breath and rubbed his stomach where the child had last kicked. “Your child has been particularly active lately.”

 _“My ch…”_ His eyes moved about. Cas could see his mind whirring as he tried to understand. He closed his eyes and his shoulders sagged, clearly having reached a conclusion. “Oh, Cas…”

“I’ll understand if you want nothing to do with it.” Castiel looked down. “With us. But…”

 _“Cas…”_ Dean’s voice was tight with regret. “I… You _can’t_ … Cas, it’s. It’s a _demon.”_

“Only half.”

“What?”

Castiel looked back up. “It’s only half demon… Despite that, it has much more of you, of _your soul_ , in it than anything else. I can _feel_ it… It’s also half angel.”

Dean was unsure. Confused. “So it’s a nephilim?”

“No. That much I’m certain.” He rubbed his stomach again. “This… our child… it’s something else. Something _different_. But I know it just has to be something good.”

Dean looked unconvinced. “Cas, c’mon. Since when has anything gone our way?”

“Since when is a demon capable of making love to an angel?”

Dean frowned. “What?”

“Be honest for once. What we did. It wasn’t just mindless fucking.” Dean made a face when he swore. Castiel sighed. “Dean. I don’t believe our child was a mistake.”

Dean gulped and looked at Cas’ stomach again. He hesitated before tentatively reaching out to place his hand over where their child grew. For a moment there was nothing. He jumped when he felt movement against his palm. Castiel sighed. The child’s movements were gentle, not like the harsh kicking he’d been experiencing since it have first started moving. Before, it was agitated. Under it’s father’s touch, it was calm. It was like it could sense Dean was near.

Cas placed his hand over Dean’s. “It needs you, Dean. _We_ need you… I _want_ you.”

They held each other’s gaze.

“Well,” Dean shrugged. “I gotta admit. The Mark is actually quieter right now.” He cradled Castiel’s pregnant stomach between his hands. “Guess it can’t be too bad… having a baby.”

-30-


End file.
